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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307045">You're Hideous, and Sexy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya'>MissNaya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe, DCU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bondage, Cock Slapping, D/s, Dark Fantasy, Dirty Talk, Emasculation, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Gore Fantasy, Insults, M/M, Marks, Rough Sex, Small Penis, Spit Kink, Subspace, Verbal Humiliation, small penis humiliation, snuff fantasy, sph</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zsasz is a little bit lacking in the size department. Roman makes sure he knows it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>159</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You're Hideous, and Sexy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm close to finishing the stuff I've been working on for a while, so here's something I shat out in an hour an a half after getting no sleep because I've lost control of my life</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Look at that thing; is it even hard?”</p>
<p>Roman’s smirk is predatory, all teeth. He circles around Zsasz like a shark circles a soon-to-be kill, and god, Zsasz wishes Roman would kill him. Wishes he’d sink his teeth into his neck, drive a knife between his ribs, peel his fucking face off while he’s still awake and breathing. Give him a shot of adrenaline to make him last through it all.</p>
<p>His cock twitches noticeably.</p>
<p>Roman laughs.</p>
<p>“I still can’t believe it,” Roman says, skimming gloved fingers over Zsasz’s bare chest as he paces around the table he’s tied to. “All these years, and I still can’t fucking believe it. Does that thing even count as a cock? Hardly looks like one to me.”</p>
<p>Zsasz’s lashes flutter, and he tilts his head back with a soft, breathy groan. He tugs at his bindings just to feel them cut into his skin, scratchy rope not made for BDSM wrapped tight around his wrists and ankles. Spread wide, he feels vulnerable, and he fucking loves it.</p>
<p>“Look at you! You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Roman asks, like he doesn’t already know the answer. It’s all about the game they play, all about the humiliation. It colors Zsasz’s cheeks and makes him feel like a blushing fucking schoolgirl, in the best possible way.</p>
<p>When he doesn’t answer fast enough, Roman’s hand comes down on his cock, smacking it nice and hard. “I asked you a fucking question, you braindead cumdumpster.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Zsasz says, still just as breathless. “Yes. Yes. Make me so fuckin’ hard, boss—”</p>
<p>Again, Roman’s peals of laughter cut through the club’s basement, where Roman’s more heavy-duty “playtime” equipment is. The table Zsasz is tied to is medical, almost mortuary, cold and steel, cutting into his back just the way he likes. With retractable stirrups for his legs, Roman has easy access to everything he might want to take advantage of down the line.</p>
<p>“Shut up. God, you’re pathetic.” He reaches down again, and Zsasz thinks he’s in for another slap, but Roman just lines his thumb up next to Zsasz’s cock. “Look at that! You’re hardly bigger than my fucking thumb, are you serious?”</p>
<p>Zsasz has never particularly cared one way or another about the size of his dick. There are more important things to worry about, like contemplating oblivion and setting free all those wayward souls who haven’t yet had the luck to be enlightened like he is.</p>
<p>That is, until he met Roman Sionis. He still remembers the laughter the first time Roman got his pants down. Still remembers the unexpected pang of arousal when Roman finally stopped cackling long enough to ask,<em> “Is that it?” </em></p>
<p>And boom. Just like that, a new fetish was born.</p>
<p>No matter how many times they’ve done scenes like this over the years, it never gets any less overwhelmingly sexy. It seems like Roman has an endless well of insults and jabs that cut him right to the core. He’s always exciting, always different, always perfect.</p>
<p>Roman toys with his cock a bit after that. Pinches the foreskin over the head and tugs, cups his balls and cock at the same time and squeezes just enough to hurt. His eyes shine the way they do when he’s in his element, drunk on power and filthy with his ideas.</p>
<p>“Even your balls are bigger than that disgusting little thing,” he muses, pressing Zsasz’s cock down against his sack with his thumb. His balls are smoothly shaved, but there’s a nest of dark hair nestled around his cock. Makes it look even smaller, which Roman likes. “And you want to fuck me with it?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Zsasz pants. “Please<em> . </em>”</p>
<p>Roman won’t say yes. Roman never says yes. It’s intoxicating to hear his refusal every time.</p>
<p>“<em>Please,</em>” Roman says on the tail end of a chuckle. “Like I would ever let that thing anywhere near me. You honestly think you deserve that?”</p>
<p>“No,” Zsasz says, and his cock throbs more under Roman’s assault. “Nah, ‘m just a stupid fuckin’ pindick, dumb little cumdumpster, boss.”</p>
<p>“That’s right, you are,” Roman agrees. He drags his thumb from the base to the tip of Zsasz’s dick, and when he releases it, it bobs up in a pathetic show. “Only worthwhile part of you’s that ass of yours. I mean, what kind of man can live with himself with a dick like that?”</p>
<p>It’s getting hard to breathe. It’s getting hard to <em> think. </em> Roman can do to him what no one else can. The way he makes Zsasz’s mind float away from his body, it feels like he’s high, and it’s the most addictive drug on the whole shitty fucking planet.</p>
<p>He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t think he can. Roman doesn’t seem bothered, just chuckling and grabbing Zsasz’s chin with the hand that was just fondling his cock. Zsasz can smell himself on Roman’s glove, the hot musk of sweat and precum, and he tries to dart his tongue out for a lick. In response, Roman pulls his hand back and slaps him hard across the face.</p>
<p>“Not very much of a man at all,” he says, answering his own question. “And so fucking desperate. Can’t get any other action with a three-incher, huh?”</p>
<p>It’s a joke. Like Zsasz would ever try to get with anyone else. Forget a candle; no one else could hold a fucking match to Roman Sionis. He’s a force of nature, a chaotic hurricane of emotions and ideas and passion and <em> life. </em> Zsasz would die for him. He wants to.</p>
<p>But tonight, he doesn’t get that. Tonight, he gets Roman laughing in his face.</p>
<p>Roman can see the look on his face, the glazed-over tint to his eyes. Zsasz is drooling, limp on the table save for his hips, which jut up in little half-thrusts against the air out of desperation.</p>
<p>That hand comes back, but this time it caresses down the side of his face, cups it, turns it back and forth. He rubs his thumb against Zsasz’s plump lower lip, but, obediently, Zsasz doesn’t try to lick this time.</p>
<p>“It’s a good thing you have me, isn’t it?” he asks, softer than before. He stares right into Zsasz’s eyes, gives him two pretty blue targets to lock onto in a vain attempt to ground himself. “Say it. Tell me how lucky you are.”</p>
<p>“So fuckin’ lucky,” Zsasz says. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, and his brain is mush, but he tries to talk anyway, because that’s what Roman wants. “Luckiest goddamn bitch on the planet.”</p>
<p>“That’s right, you are,” Roman says, eating up the praise. “No one else would put up with a rowdy puppy like you, would they?”</p>
<p>Zsasz shakes his head as much as he can with Roman gripping his chin. “No. No.”</p>
<p>“Lucky I don’t have you fixed…” Roman’s smirk is cocky, confident, everything Zsasz needs right now. “Cut those balls off, you horndog, getting so worked up just from being talked down to. You’re ridiculous.”</p>
<p>The next pang of arousal hits <em> hard, </em> and Zsasz’s chest rises and falls in sharp bursts. A bead of precum quickly forms and drips down his cock, to shine wetly in his pubes.</p>
<p>“Yes, boss,” he pants, brow furrowed. “Yes, boss, <em> please, </em> boss—”</p>
<p>“Please what?”</p>
<p>“Please, please,” Victor says, searching for more words and coming up short. “Please. Fuck me. Fuck me, <em> Roman… </em>”</p>
<p>He hears the intake of breath, Roman’s own little sign that he’s getting off on this just as much as Zsasz is.</p>
<p>Well, that and the huge bulge in his slacks, too.</p>
<p>And that’s the best part: Roman is <em> massive. </em> As he slowly unbuckles his belt and drags down his zipper, Zsasz can only watch and salivate. When Roman tugs free his cock, it’s already completely hard, flushed a nice, warm pink. It has to be at least eight inches, maybe nine, compared to Victor’s generous three and a half.</p>
<p>“This? This is what you want?” Roman asks, holding himself by the base. He rocks his hips a little, close to Zsasz’s face, just to taunt him more. “This thing right here?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Zsasz says, nodding frantically. “Yes. Yes. Please, boss, give it to me, please, jus’ wanna feel your cock in me…”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Roman releases his cock to run his hand up Zsasz’s inner thigh, prodding with those gloved fingers at his asshole. He’s waxed clean there, too, for Roman’s pleasure and not his own. But damn, does it feel good when soft leather circles his pucker, just firm enough to really let him anticipate what might come next.</p>
<p>And that’s the other thing about Roman: there’s never any guarantee about anything. He could let Zsasz get off, or he could strap him up with a cock ring on and leave him alone for a few hours. He could fuck him, or he could let one of his various machines take care of the heavy lifting.</p>
<p>Hell, he could even kill Zsasz if he wanted to. Zsasz would let him. He’d only be worried about how well Roman would fare without him.</p>
<p>He can’t speak again, so he just nods. He can feel himself drooling more, and he knows he looks stupid, because Roman makes sure to tell him.</p>
<p>“Check out that dumb fucking look on your face. God, you’re <em> disgusting, </em> aren’t you? Debasing yourself like this for just a chance to take my cock.”</p>
<p>And Roman must know how far away words are for him now, because he doesn’t make him say any more. He just jams a few fingers into his mouth, making him slobber, letting him taste himself. He sucks it down with greed until all he can taste is leather, then he sucks some more.</p>
<p>Roman pulls them out and slaps him again. “That’s enough of that, micro-dick. I wanna get off. You’re gonna help me. Sound good?”</p>
<p>It doesn’t matter whether or not Zsasz thinks so. He knows it. Roman knows it. But he doesn’t <em> want </em> to say no, nodding with a knit brow. He licks his lips to try and savor the last lingering taste of Roman there.</p>
<p>Roman smiles. “Good.”</p>
<p>They keep lube in practically every room in the penthouse and club. Never know when you’ll— No, that’s a lie, they know exactly when they’ll need it, and that’s “all the time.” So it’s easy for Roman to produce a bottle, tipping it over to squeeze a line of cold lube down his enormous, perfect cock.</p>
<p>“Spread it,” he tells Zsasz, rocking his hips toward one of his bound hands. His hands are red by now, tingling a little, so it’s hard to close it around Roman’s thick length, but he manages. Roman fucks his fist until he’s slick all over, and his gloves remain (more-or-less) pristine.</p>
<p>He trails his fingers down Zsasz’s stomach again as he slowly makes his way to the other end of the table. His abdominal muscles jump under Roman’s touch, and his cock gives a violent twitch, leaking more messy precum. Roman curls his lip at the sight.</p>
<p>“Ew. You’re a fucking mess already,” he says, a cruel laugh in his tone. “You’re lucky you’re a tight fuck, or else I wouldn’t go near that sloppy bush of yours.”</p>
<p>“S’ lucky,” Zsasz slurs, like he’s just had five shots and a roofie. “S’ lucky f’r boss…”</p>
<p>“That’s right, you are,” Roman says in the way you might talk to a kindergartener. “And if you take your boss like the good little whore you are, you’ll be lucky enough to get a special treat at the end: I’ll come in you. Wouldn’t you like that, you dumb cunt?”</p>
<p>Zsasz can’t take it anymore; he <em> sobs. </em> It’s a dry sob, but it’s intense, head swimming, vision blurring. Only Roman <em> fucking </em> Sionis could reduce Victor Zsasz to tears.</p>
<p>God, he loves him so fucking much.</p>
<p>He loves him even more when Roman braces his hands on Zsasz’s hips and fucks into him, all at once, with no warning. He grunts as he works his way in, fucking in and out a little deeper each time. It’s purely for his own comfort, his own enjoyment as his cock adjusts to the tight clench of Zsasz’s ass around his cock.</p>
<p>But Zsasz enjoys it, too. He enjoys being treated like a dumb slut, enjoys taking it all without preparation. Let Roman see how much he can handle. Let him see what a good boy he is.</p>
<p>Their fuck, like always, is quick and brutal. Zsasz will be bruised tomorrow. Hips, wrists, ankles, back… Maybe a mark or two on his face, even. All reminders of this night, although sadly temporary, not like the rest of them. Not the scars carved with purpose, with almost religious reverence. It’s one of the many reasons he wishes Roman would try to kill him for real, just once. He’s seemed to get close before, but never as close as Zsasz always finds himself wishing for.</p>
<p>The thought goes right to his tiny, bouncing dick, not even big enough to slap against his lower stomach as they go at it. Roman is fixated on it, tongue between his teeth, evil gleam in his eyes. He’s louder than Zsasz, grunting and groaning as he pounds into him.</p>
<p>“It’s worthless,” he says, and he sounds so <em> delighted </em> that Zsasz can’t help but moan, too. “Can’t even fuck the tightest bitch with it. Hell, it might as well be a clit, it’s not much bigger than one.”</p>
<p>It’s emasculating to hear, and Zsasz hates women just as much as Roman. Maybe that’s why it makes it so hot. His cheeks burn with what would be shame on any other person, but Zsasz got rid of the feeling long ago. There’s only Roman, making Roman happy, attuning himself to Roman’s wants and needs and thoughts and desires every second of every day. And right now, making him happy means getting fucked silly while listening to anything he decides to say to him.</p>
<p>He agrees with all of it. Every insult. Every humiliating question. Every assault on his pride and his manhood. Because it’s coming from <em> Roman, </em> damn it, and that’s good e-fucking-nough for him.</p>
<p>“I bet you’re gonna come without me even touching that ugly thing,” Roman laughs. “Aren’t you? Just from being called a cocksucking little cunt. God, you’re— <em> nngh </em> — Oh, fuck. You’re only good to take my cum, you know that, right? Only here to, <em> ahh, </em> empty my balls when I need it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yes,” Zsasz says — slurs, really, head lolling from side to side, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Come in me, please. Wan’ it. Wan’ it <em> bad. </em>”</p>
<p>“I know, baby, I know,” Roman coos. That voice sends a shiver down Zsasz’s spine, a jolt of electricity through his cock. “Then you’d better not come before me. You understand?”</p>
<p>Zsasz nods. Roman backhands him and repeats the question.</p>
<p>“<em>Yes, </em> Sir.” Breathing harder, faster, he doesn’t know how he’s gonna manage it, but he will. He will, because Roman asked him to. “Yessir. <em> Mmn. </em>”</p>
<p>“Say my name,” Roman says, and the way he’s looking at him is different now. Predatory. Dangerous.</p>
<p>“Roman,” Zsasz moans. He can’t hold it back much longer. “Roman, Roman, <em> Roman, Roman—” </em></p>
<p>“Ah, <em> fuck.</em>” Roman’s hips piston harder, faster, and his hands only get tighter. Zsasz feels like he’s gonna explode, gonna combust right here if he doesn’t come, but he squeezes his eyes shut and tells himself he can make it.</p>
<p>And Roman swears like a sailor, which is when Zsasz knows he’s really about to come. Sure enough, his rhythm stutters, and the sopping mess that is Zsasz’s ass gets even wetter from the inside out.</p>
<p>Zsasz comes one second later. His little cock twitches as it pumps out a few ropes of cum, all of which seep down into his pubes, making him feel like a well-used whore. Roman stays inside him, panting, for a few more moments, until his cock starts to soften.</p>
<p>“...You’re such a good boy,” he says after a while. Reaches up to pat Zsasz’s cheek with a glove that still smells like sex. “Disgusting fucking pervert, but you’re mine. Got that?”</p>
<p>Zsasz grins a dopey grin, gold teeth glinting in the harsh basement lights.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t have it any other way, boss.”</p>
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